


December 14th: Christmas Tree

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [15]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Advent Calendar, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, First Christmas, Fluff, Ineffable Advent, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: This is Day 14 of my Good Omens Advent Calendar for 2019, in which our boys get a tree for the bookshop and Crowley explains his prior aversion to Christmas.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550176
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	December 14th: Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy my Good Omens Advent Calendar! Consider it my Christmas gift to the fandom! And if you want to give me a gift in return, please leave me a comment (I live for them!) and if you're really awesome check out my other stuff by going to my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com! <3

It happened the night Aziraphale decided he wanted a Christmas tree. 

The announcement had caught Crowley completely off guard, if he were being honest. They'd just been finishing up a rather lovely lunch at a new fusion place downtown when the angel had asked, quite cheerily and with a tone that broached little argument, for Crowley to accompany him to the tree lot just outside of the city. They were nearly there by the time Crowley thought to ask if Aziraphale normally put up a Christmas tree. The angel had replied, with a particularly radiant smile, that this would be his first, but he didn't elaborate further. 

Aziraphale wandered the tree lot for quite some time, running his fingertips along the branches of the trees he passed, before finally asking Crowley to help him choose. The demon had frowned and glared at the trees from behind his dark glasses, shoved his hands in too-tight pockets, and sauntered over to a rather vibrant specimen that must have been newly cut. He examined it closely, gave it a few good sniffs, and quietly demanded that it keep itself in pristine condition, before letting Aziraphale know that this was the one. 

They'd tied it to the roof of the Bentley together (not before a second hissed threat that there better not be a single scratch on the paint later), carted it back to the bookshop, and carefully set it in a watering stand in the back room, opposite the fireplace. 

While Aziraphale began snapping boxes of tree decorations into existence, Crowley got a lovely fire burning and poured them each a generous portion of good scotch. Then the demon curled up on the sofa, gazing somewhat obviously in the opposite direction of the newest addition to the shop while he drank. 

For a little while Aziraphale rummaged through the boxes of decorations and spoke at length about color schemes and traditional styles of ornaments and-

At some point - Crowley wasn't certain exactly when - Aziraphale had trailed off, drained his drink, and come to sit next to the demon. Without a word said, the angel turned and shifted both their bodies until the demon was laying comfortably against the angel's chest. Aziraphale's fingers worked their way up to card in a lovely, relaxing way through Crowley's hair. The demon sighed with contentment. 

He should have known that the question was coming. He'd been expecting it for some time, as a matter of fact. Yet, he still wasn't truly ready for it.

"My dear," Aziraphale said quietly, gently, doing his best to sound aloof about the whole thing, "were you...intending to go away during the holidays?"

Crowley swallowed. Hard. "I...I dunno," he ended up mumbling. 

Aziraphale continued working his fingers across the demon's scalp, infusing his touch with light and love and comfort as he pressed the subject carefully. "It's just that...I've noticed you never stick around at this time of year, and I suppose I was curious as to where it is that you usually go?"

Crowley closed his eyes, took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sighed; not a big, dramatic whoosh of air, but a small sound of resignation, of knowing that he was going to have to have this conversation eventually, so he might as well just get on with it. 

For a long time Crowley thought he'd been able to avoid the holiday season without the angel noticing. By the time Christmas became a widely celebrated phenomenon the two of them were spending more time together than ever before, but they still spent such large chunks of time apart that it wasn't at all obvious that Crowley was never nearby when the later half of December came around. 

But then they'd both become employed by the Dowlings for the purpose of influencing the boy they'd thought was the antichrist. During that time Crowley had always made sure to take off before the Christmas season was in full swing. It was a habit that Mrs Dowling, in particular, had been quite annoyed with, but he always used a bit of demonic influence to convince her that it was necessary for Nanny Ashtoreth to have an extended vacation during these times. 

A few years of that in a row...if Aziraphale  _ hadn't  _ noticed it would have been a (demonic) miracle. 

With a deep breath and a wave that banished his glass to the table, Crowley shifted himself so that he was nuzzled with his cheek to his angel's belly. Aziraphale was sure to chase the demon's head with his lovely, massaging fingers. It was warm and comforting, and it helped him to convince the other to start talking. 

"At first I just didn't like the whole concept," he spoke quietly, trusting that Aziraphale would hear every word. "I mean...I knew the guy. I showed him the world. I...I liked him. So it felt weird, you know...when people started praising his birth after they'd fucking cruxified him."

Aziraphale's fingers stuttered their movement for a moment, but quickly resumed their ministrations. "I suppose that makes sense," he admitted. "You said 'at first' though. Does that mean that you changed your mind at some point?"

Crowley didn't answer right away. He took a few quite minutes to trace his finger around one of the buttons on Aziraphale's waistcoat and to enjoy the feeling of the angel's fingers in his hair. Eventually he spoke again, his voice even lower than before. "You know as much as I do that the holiday has changed a  _ lot  _ since its conception. Say what you will about the capatilsm and all that-"

(Crowley did not go into further detail concerning this topic because he was part-proud and part-embarrassed to admit that he was mostly to blame for it.)

"-but the biggest change that I noticed over the years is that celebrating Christmas became less about  _ him _ specifically and more about...family."

This time Aziraphale made sure not to pause in his movements for even a second, but if Crowley had been able to read the angel's mind in that moment he would have known that he'd rather surprised him. 

They snuggled in silence for a few more minutes, Aziraphale having decided to let Crowley continue his explanation in his own time. It wasn't quite as long this time before the demon began speaking again. 

"I lost my celestial family when I Fell… And Hell isn't exactly full of the warm, fuzzy, 'let's love and appreciate each other' types." He took a deep, shuddering breath, and sighed it out slowly. "There've been humans I was fond of, but it never felt...right… They couldn't know me, the  _ real  _ me I mean, so how could we possibly be considered 'family'?"

Silence resumed for several long moments during which Aziraphale's heart was breaking. As much as he himself had experienced terrible loneliness over the millennia (sometimes cripplingly so), the thought of his precious demon sequestering himself away during the holidays because he felt he didn't have anyone... The angel felt he'd rather throw himself into hellfire than let Crowley feel that kind of loneliness _ever_ again. 

"My dear," he soothed, swallowing back his own hurt at the implications of Crowley's words, "did...did you never consider...me?"

Crowley's fingers curled into a fist against his angel's stomach. His body barely moved, but he seemed to have folded in on himself, closing himself off as if to hide away from his own response. "Didn't...didn't know 'f you'd want me…"

A sound of abject horror squeaked out of Aziraphale's throat. Before Crowley could even comprehend that they were moving, the angel had the demon in his lap, slender face trapped between soft, shaking hands. " _ Crowley _ ," he cried, voice hoarse. "My dear, my darling demon…" He could feel tears threatening to fall, misty blue eyes matching the glassy amber ones before him. "It may have taken the Apocalypse for me to admit my true feelings, but I have  _ always  _ wanted you. I have  _ always  _ considered you my family."

Crowley's Adam's apple bobbed. He blinked several times. He drew in a deep, shaky breath through his nose. Then a strangled noise clawed its way from him, and suddenly his face was buried in Aziraphale's chest as his shoulders shook violently. The angel wrapped his arms tight around his beloved and whispered soothing words as he kneaded his fingers into the tense spots in the demon's back. 

"There there, my love...shh...it's okay. Let it all out."

" 'M not crying," Crowley muttered angrily into Aziraphale's coat. The angel dutifully ignored the fact that he hadn't said a word about any crying that may or may not have been occurring. 

"Shush," he told the demon, nuzzling his nose down into red hair that smelled of sandalwood and fresh lilac. "It's okay, darling. It's okay."

They lay together like that for a long time, the only sounds the crackle of the fire, the soft sobs of a demon, and the loving whispers of an angel.

A considerable time later the quivering of Crowley's shoulders had abated and the demon had nestled his way back down into a warm, cozy position pillowed under his angel's arm. His breathing had become deep and steady, and he neither moved nor spoke. Aziraphale had begun to think that the demon had fallen asleep when a small voice floated up to him, timid and vulnerable.

"Ask me?"

A beatific smile spread across Aziraphale's face. "My darling," he cooed as he dragged gentle fingers across his demon's back, "Would you please spend the holidays with me?"

Crowley's arms tightened around his angel, held him tight in a way that said, 'please, never let me go'. Aziraphale returned the hug in a way that said, 'never, my love, never again'. 

"I'd love to, angel."


End file.
